


Not of blood, but of heart

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, but mostly it's angst, canon character death, seriously you have been warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 20:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It surprised them all to see how quickly Dwalin and Ori had become friends. Brothers wouldn't have been closer, and in the end, friendship was what they had left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not of blood, but of heart

**Author's Note:**

> I am very much sorry for writing this. But I like the idea of Ori and Dwalin as friends so much, and it seemed like the perfect way to explore that relationship, and I swear next time I'm writing proper fluff D:

The others all thought it didn't make any sense, for these two to be friends. A shy book worm who had never set a foot outside of his library, and an old warrior who could only read aloud, and then very slowly, but would kill a goblin with his bare hands? They couldn't possibly have anything to do together.

But things had clicked immediately for them. Dwalin had been impressed by the small lad's decision to join the quest, and his eagerness to do things right. Ori admired the warrior's strength and courage. They both enjoyed old tales proclaiming the deeds of long dead heroes. Dwalin enjoyed teaching, and Ori liked to learn. They liked the same jokes, and were both delighted to finally be around someone who didn't think laughing was almost a crime (Thorin had a lot of work to do in that respect, and so did Dori). They both had an older sibling with a dubious sense of humour (Balin and Nori).

Ori made mittens for Dwalin, that he may not get cold.

Dwalin showed Ori how to use a proper battle axe.

They talked of Erebor, of what they would do with their share of the treasure, of their reasons for joining the quest, of dreams and hopes and fears.

In barely a few days, they felt as strongly for each other as they did for those of their own kin, and accepted themselves as brother, not of blood but of heart.

* * *

  
Dwalin was the first to notice something was going on. At least, he had thought he was the first one.

It was his job after all to keep an eye on everything, and in particular on Thorin's nephew. He'd known the boys since their birth, he had helped them learn how to use their weapons, and how to act like proper dwarves, and he cared for them almost as much as their uncle did, though in a different way. Often enough, Fili's golden hair would catch his eye, and maybe he would stare at him longer than he should have, but that was his problem, and it didn't hurt anyone.

But he wasn't the only one of the company who stared and one night, as he showed Ori how to sharpen an axe, Dwalin thought it could be interesting to help things a bit.

"Tell me, laddie, how do you get along with the princes?"

"Well enough," Ori said, looking away. "They're nice, but a bit loud, and Fili makes fun of me because I'm not much good with weapons."

"He wasn't much better when he started. Almost dropped his sword on his toe the first time he tried to use it. Does Kili make fun of you too?"

There was a slight blush on the younger dwarf's cheeks.

"No. Doesn't talk to me much, if he can avoid it. He's a nice one, but I don't think he likes me much."

The sad little voice in which it was said almost made Dwalin laugh.

"Trust me, little one, the lad does like you. All that he doesn't say with words, he says it with his eyes. He won't stop looking at you, and that's a look I know well enough."

"Is it anything like the way you watch Fili?" Ori asked with a teasing smile that disappeared when he Dwalin turned toward him. "Sorry, that was uncalled for. It's none of my business."

"No, it's not."

"But he looks at you the same," Ori quickly added. "When you're not looking at him, he's the one looking at you. Even our Burglar has noticed it. Asked me if I wasn't worried and _jealous_."

"The halfling thinks we're _courting_?" Dwalin laughed, and Ori nodded and joined him, drawing the attention of the rest of the company to them. Kili and Fili in particular seemed very curious as to the reason of their hilarity, and when the eldest prince asked them what was so funny, they just laughed harder.

* * *

 

Ori, after that, had paid a lot more attention to Kili. Or to be more exact, he had made it more obvious that he was paying a lot of attention to him. He made him a scarf, as well as fingerless gloves. These had been Dwalin's idea, as he claimed they would be practical when the prince used his bow. The old warrior also told him to get some specific berries for Kili (the lad loved them) and encouraged him to sing a certain song one night, by the fire (Kili's favourite since childhood).

In exchange for that, Ori requested one night to draw Fili and Dwalin together, claiming that they would look nice on paper. He also made sure to include the two princes in their conversations whenever possible, only to entirely ignore Fili after a moment, forcing Dwalin to talk to him. The older dwarf didn't mind, and even seemed rather amused by these efforts. He had already given up on the blonde prince, but it was nice to still spend time with him, and to allow himself to be pleased by the lad's admiration. He tried not to give too much importance to the small touches, certain they were only accidental.

* * *

 

Fili had taken Ori aside at Rivendell, while everyone else was trying to eat the leaves and herbs that the elves dared to eat food.

"What is going on between you and Dwalin?" the prince had asked once they were alone. "I can't figure it out, I thought there was... mutual interest, but Dori said you had promised him it was nothing of the sort."

"Well, there's mutual interest of a sort, as in, we get along fine. But there's no romance, if that's what you really want to know."

"Are you _sure_?" Fili insisted. "Don't take it the wrong way, but I've known Dwalin for longer than you, and he just doesn't... _act_ like that, or only with Balin. And that'd be fine, of course. You'd make a fine pair, the two of you. But you... well, there's the way you act toward Kili, and I don't know what you're doing there, but it's not fair on at least one of them. You're still a child and all, I can understand if you don't realize what's going on, but you make it looks like you're interested in _both_ of them."

"I'm not a _child_!" Ori protested. "I'm about as old as Kili, and I know very well what I'm doing, thank you very much. There is nothing but friendship between me and master Dwalin, so if there's anything you wish to tell him, well, go tell _him_ instead of bothering me."

"So you're sure that..."

Ori took the nearest thing he could find (his notebook from his own satchel, as it happened) and hit the prince on the head with it. Not very hard, he didn't want to damage his diary, but hard enough to get his point accross.

"You. Go. Talk. To. Him. Now! And he'll say stupid things, about how he's too old, and that he's your uncle's friend, and you deserve better, but don't you listen to him, it's nonsense. Now _go_!"

Fili seemed absolutely shocked to be yelled at by their small, nice, shy scholar. So shocked, in fact, that he did not try to protest, did not even have the sense to claim he had any intentions toward Dwalin, as would have been proper. Instead, the prince went straight back to the others, and managed to request a few moments of privacy with the older dwarf.

When they came back, they were both smiling in a very silly manner, though only Ori seemed to notice.

* * *

 

Dori and Nori did not approve of their brother's little romance with Kili. The boys were too young, and such a dangerous quest was not place for flirting and kissing. The fact that the two had managed to hide it from them for quite a long while did not help their anger (Ori had decided to follow Fili's example while they were at Rivendell, thanks to the help of whatever it was the elves had given them to drink, and they had managed to keep it secret until the entire company found them together in Beorn's gardens, undressing in what they had thought to be a nice hiding place.)

"I expected better than that from you, Ori," Dori grumbled while his younger brother finished putting back his cardigan. "We raised you better than that! You know how a proper courtship is supposed to go, there is a way to go about these things, and..."

"It's not his fault!" Kili tried to argue. "I'm the one who suggested it! And it's not like we're just fooling around, you know! I'm going to marry him when we get Erebor back! Well, that is... if he wants me?" he added with a sheepish smile, looking expectantly at Ori. The young scholar nodded frenetically, and tried to take his hand, but Nori dragged his brother to him.

"There'll be no wedding of any sorts, not without our agreement!" Dori declared. "You are both far too young to even think of such things, isn't that right?"

Thorin looked ready to agree with that, but Dwalin was quicker.

"They're not children anymore, though," he said. "They have fought as true warriors, both against the trolls and the goblins. If they're old enough to risk their life for a kingdom they've never seen, they're old enough to pledge their life to another dwarf."

"There's a difference between a fight and mariage," Thorin reminded him.

"Yeah, one might make you happy and the other might make you _dead_ , though I won't say which is which. But hey, Gloin, how old were you when you married your lady?"

"Seventy three. But we had know each other for twenty years!"

"That's still younger than our two lads" Dwalin noted. "As for knowing her long before that, if they have not seen the worst of each other by the end of this journey, then they never will. A quest like that, it gets on people's nerves, makes you show what you're really made of. I'd say we leave them in peace, they're not hurting anyone. And if they still want each other by the time Erebor is ours again, I don't think a single one of you can stop them, so I don't see the point in trying."

"Easy for you to say," Dori had grumbled, and Nori nodded. "It's not _your_ brother we're talking about."

"But I'd say the same if the lad was of my blood, and I think he could do worse than a _prince of Erebor_ , right?"

That managed to shut Dori and Nori up, at least, and the matter was dropped. Later, Dwalin dealt with Thorin, convincing him that Ori was exactly what his younger nephew needed, someone smart enough for two, but kind and loving, who would die rather than hurt the dark haired prince.

Before they left Beorn's house, Ori made a small honey cake that he gave to Dwalin, to show his thanks. They shared it, sitting by the fire, talking about the pleasant future awaiting them in Erebor.

* * *

 

They were lucky enough, in the elves' dungeons, to have cells that faced each other. Dwalin did his best to distract Ori from their hopeless situation, telling jokes, sharing old stories about his youth spent having fun with Thorin and Balin, in the days before the dragon came. The lad asked him questions, laughed at particularly wild tales (the time Thorin and Dwalin had written to Balin's lady friend, pretending to be him, made Ori laugh so much he cried and almost chocked).

It helped them both pretend everything was fine, and made it easier to wait for their burglar to come up with a plan.

* * *

 

Their time in Esgaroth was one of the happiest period in Ori's life, though it did not last as long as he could have wished. But there was food, and drinks, and they were warm and had proper beds. Dori and Nori seemed to have made their peace with the idea that he was now officially engaged to Kili, and that they had Thorin's blessing. They still did their best not to leave the two young ones alone, especially at night, but thanks to the beer of Esgaroth, and with some help of Dwalin, they had no trouble getting a room to themselves anyway.

“Dori will probably kill you if he finds out you let us have your room,” Ori joked the following morning.

“That's nothing compared to what will happen if Thorin finds out I stayed in what should have been his nephews' room. I'm a dead dwarf the day he discovers it. Thank Mahal _I_ had enough sense not to go frolicking in plain sight at Beorn's.”

“I'm sure he wouldn't take it so badly.” Ori protested. “He likes you, and he likes Fili, and if you're happy, then where's the problem? If Kili is old enough to want to marry, then so is his brother, right?”

Dwalin shrugged.

“It's different. Fili is the heir, he should perpetuate the line, find a wife. And he'll be king one day. Can you imagine me as his _queen_?”

“You'd look lovely in a dress,” Ori teased. “A green one, with a nice golden belt, and blue ribbons in your beard.”

“Are you mocking me, laddie?”

“I would _never_ dare. But, I'm thinking. Maybe Fili should get a wife and have children and all that, and that's what people expect and all. But if he's just half as stubborn as his uncle, he'll say to hell with all that, and he'll keep you, since that's _you_ he wants. And don't go saying it's not serious and everything. The way he looks at you, I'm surprised Thorin hasn't noticed yet.”

“I could walk around naked with his nephew in my arms that he wouldn't notice a thing if he's brooding over his lost kingdom. But I suppose you're right. Once we've reconquered Erebor, I'll talk to Fili, see what he wants from this, and then we'll talk to Thorin.”

It was a task that frightened him more than Dwalin would have liked to admit, and he'd rather have faced wargs and orcs and trolls all at once than have to tell his oldest friend that he had been involved with his nephew and heir during most of their travel. But next to him, Ori sniggered, catching his attention.

“Call him king a lot,” the younger dwarf suggested. “If you do it enough, I bet he'd even agree to marry you himself.”

“Not if he finds his Arkenstone first, he won't. He'll get married to the bloody stone as soon as he gets his fingers on it.”

They were still laughing by the time the rest of the company started joining them.

* * *

 

It was not supposed to go like that. Dwalin hadn't signed for a war. He'd had enough of that against Azog's armies. It was madness from Thorin, refusing to let the men have some of their old gold back, especially when they were the ones who had killed the blasted dragon. But he could not leave Thorin's side, nor show any sign of dissension. They could not afford that, not at such a time. So he remained silent, even as everyone else grumbled.

“You're not doing him a favour,” Fili reproached him one night, as they had found a room far enough from the rest of the group. “As long as you're on his side, he'll think he can go on. And if he goes on, we'll all die. It'll be like the Moria all over again.”

“I won't let any harm come to you, if that's what worries you.”

“And what of Kili, who will protect him? Or Ori? Do they have to risk their lives for... for some stupid _gold_? I came here for glory, to reclaim my mother's land, not to kill people who _helped_ us. This isn't fair. This isn't how a king should act.”

Dwalin sighed, and brought the prince's body closer to his.

“You'll make a great king one day.”

“When that day comes, I hope you'll tell me when I'm being stupid.” Fili hesitated a moment. “You'll still be by my side then, won't you?”

“As long as you'll want me, princeling.”

“Forever then. Until death do us part, as the men say.”

Dwalin smiled, and kissed the lad's temple. Forever sounded just fine.

* * *

 

“If I die, you'll have to find someone else,” Ori says, looking at the army of elves and men at the foot of the mountain. Bilbo and Gandalf were somewhere, down there. Safe, the young scholar hoped.

Kili put his arms around his partner, dragging him away from the window. “You're not going to die, silly. None of us will die, because Dain will soon arrive, and there will be a negotiation, and everything will be fine. “

“How can you be sure?”

The young prince had laughed before kissing his neck.

“I'm not sure. But if we were in a story, everything would turn out fine, right? And all we've done, all that happened... well it's like we really _are_ in a story, doesn't it? So maybe we'll get lucky! And then Thorin will be King under the Mountain, Fili will be his heir, and I'll be... hanging around, shooting arrows and bothering everyone, while you act as our official historian. It's going to be a lot of work of course, so I'll have to take care of you when you get home.”

Ori laughed. He could picture it perfectly. “How exactly will you take care of me then?”

“Well, I'll feed you. I'll make all your favourite dishes, and some new one I learned from our hobbit that I bet you've never tasted in your life. And I'll clean your clothes, because a royal historian needs to look great at all times of course. And then, when all that is done, and when you've told me about your day, we'll go to bed and make love and I'll be the happiest dwarf that ever was.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn't it? So now, all we have to do is stay alive, and wait for tomorrow.”

* * *

 

Ori and Dwalin fought side by side, killing goblin after goblin, warg after warg. Nothing mattered but to stay alive, and keep the other alive. They had not seen the others since the beginning of the battle, losing sight of them in the flood of dark creatures that had attacked them.

They were tired and hurt. Dwalin was almost sure his left wrist was broken, and he dared not look at his leg on the same side. Ori was slightly better, but he knew that was only because the older dwarf had protected him whenever possible. But he could see the warrior's strength were failing him. It was his turn to help and protect.

It was a relief, when the eagles arrived, destroying the last of the goblins and wargs. Ori could barely even stand at that point, and he knew if he stopped for even one moment, he would fall and never get up again. He also knew Dwalin was in a worse state yet, and that he had to get him to healers of some sort, as fast as possible.

“Leave me here, lad,” the warrior moaned. “Too late for me now.”

“I get out of here with you, or not at all,” came Ori's answer. “You know you can do it. You've got to live. For Balin. For me. For Fili.”

And that, at last, seemed to have some effect. Dwalin assembled what little strength he had left and, half carried by Ori, he started walking toward the mountain.

There, they would find help, shelter, food, healers. There, they would be safe, and reunited with their friends and lovers. And when Dwalin fainted, his wounds having bled too much, Ori still walked, dragging his friend with him, toward the mountain. Until finally, help arrived. Dwarves he didn't know, from the Iron Hills no doubt, saw them and came to their rescue. They took the two of them to a tent where there was already an elf and a man, in a worse shape than even Dwalin. The elf died minutes after they had arrived, the man survived little more.

Ori did not give either of them a minute of attention. All that mattered was Dwalin. When the healers said he would live, the scholar cried from joy. All was well.

Balin came into the tent soon after that, a bright red wound on his face, not far from his eye. He took a seat and went to his brother's side, his eyes red but dry, as if he had run out of tears already.

“You saved my brother, master Ori.”

“He saved me first. It was only fair. Are the others wounded? My brothers? Fili? Kili?”

“Your brothers are fine. They were both lucky, and are helping those who... weren't as lucky. They'll come see you as soon as they have time, don't worry.”

“And Kili? He's fine too, right? Fili protected him, and Thorin protected them both, right? Are they wounded? Badly hurt? You've found them, aren't you? Tell me you found them? Them me they're fine?”

Balin took a deep breath, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I am sorry, lad. I'm sorry for you, and I am sorry for my brother.”

“I don't believe it,” Ori whispered.

“They fell defending their uncle, laddie,” Balin answered. “It's as noble a death as can ever be, and one day, people will sing of it. You should be proud of Kili, as Dwalin will certainly be proud of Fili. They did what was right, and isn't that what matters in the end?”

Ori didn't answer. He thought of Kili's smile, his laugh, his voice, the way he was the worse singer the world had know but still sang because he enjoyed it. He thought of Kili's passion for his bow, and the way his eyes lit up when someone complimented his aim. He thought of Kili's hand on his body, when they could find some time alone, of his lips soft and warm, of the noises they'd try no to make together, for fear someone would notice them. He thought of the time they had had, which had been too short, and of the plans Kili had for them, and how happy they would have been.

No, doing what was right _wasn't_ what mattered.

* * *

 

Dwalin wasn't well enough to come to the funeral, according to the healers, but no one could have stopped him. At his brother's insistence, he had agreed to sit during the ceremony, but Ori was standing for both of them, straight and proud. The lad spent his nights crying, Dwalin had spent enough time trying to console him to know that, but in the daylight, there was no emotion on his young face, as if it did not affect him to see the dwarf he had loved so much join his ancestors.

So Dwalin cried for the two of them. He saw no shame in it, not at such a time. Those who didn't know him thought he wept for his king and friend. The company knew the tears were for his young lover, more than for Thorin. Dwalin, weak as he had been when he'd learned the truth, had found the energy to swear that he would kill the king with his own hands, if he dared to survive his nephews. He had calmed down later, of course. For all his bad decisions, Thorin had been his friend, and Dwalin was not one to hold a grudge against a dead dwarf.

“At least they're together,” Ori murmured to himself. “That's good, probably. They'll never have been apart at all, like that. That's what they'd have wanted.”

“We're together too, laddie,” Dwalin answered. “It's better than nothing.”

Ori did not answer, but put a hand on the other's shoulder.

That was at least one thing they still had. That, and the memories.


End file.
